


half of what you see and none of what you hear

by elegantstupidity



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: 3+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Gossip, News Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantstupidity/pseuds/elegantstupidity
Summary: 3 times the media thought Ginny Baker was dating a teammate + 1 time she definitely was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from the great Marvin Gaye

**1**

**GINNY BAKER - HOME WRECKER??? Getting Hot and Heavy With Her Married Teammate!**

 

Of all the people to send her this particular headline, Ginny's money would not have been on Evelyn Sanders. 

_Hah! Girl, if you want him, you can have him._

She'd heard the notification ping about halfway through her second set of squats, had even craned around, tried to catch a glimpse of the screen. Her spotter, however, was having none of that. 

"Eyes on the prize, rookie," Lawson snapped, his gum and the admonishment both. 

Ignoring the fact that she was well on her way out of rookiedom, Ginny shot him a wry look and resettled her grip on the barbell. "What's the prize, again?"

"Another set if you don't watch it." Had he been talking to anyone else, the threat likely would have had some merit. Ginny, though, was in the homestretch of her Day Three workout. She couldn't add that much more exertion without overtaxing herself, risking a subpar performance in two days. 

Zoning back in, Ginny ignored the trembling in her thighs and finished out her set with minimal fuss. By the time she'd reracked the bar, gone through her cool down jog, and ribbed Lawson for his weak burpees, she'd nearly forgotten about the message waiting on her phone. 

She scrolled through her notifications, dismissing pretty much everything since Eliot would hit the highlights with her later, when the message from Evelyn caught her eye. Walking out of the clubhouse with Mike, Ginny tapped the link Evelyn had sent along with her message. 

 _TMZ, Evelyn? Really?_ Ginny snorted, felt Lawson's eyes on her and was about to show him whatever gossip Evelyn had deemed worthy of sharing when she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Glaring up at her from that tiny screen was, "GINNY BAKER - HOME WRECKER???" along with a few pictures of her and Blip from their San Antonio days and a blurb citing mysterious "sources" for the tip.

"Baker?" Lawson's voice cut through the haze of her panic. She hadn't even realized that she'd stopped in her tracks. Ginny looked up at her captain, feeling helpless and hating it. Still, she held out her phone to him, watched as he took in the information, wondered what he thought. 

It was an easy conclusion to draw. The photos they'd found certainly painted a picture if you didn't know the whole story. After all, Ginny draped along Blip's shoulder, the two of them laughing their heads off and Ginny clinging to Blip's back, face buried in his neck, certainly  _could_ look romantic. And the sparse but tantalizing speculation they'd published with the pictures ( _"Apparently, Ginny Baker and Blip Sanders, currently of the San Diego Padres, have always been close. Our sources tell us that the two ballplayers are known to get physical, evidenced in these photos, from 2013. Perhaps Baker plans on trading the MLB for an MRS? We'll have to see what the current Mrs. Sanders has to say about that!"_ ) certainly fit that narrative.

That, of course, ignored the fact that in the original photos, Evelyn had been there, too. She'd clung to Ginny's arm, laughing just as hard as her husband and friend.

Still. _Mike_ didn't know that. 

Ginny chewed her lip, waiting for a verdict from her captain. 

Finally, he handed her back the phone and leveled her with a stare. "So?"

"So!" Her voice sounded uncomfortably close to a shriek in her own ears, but Lawson didn't flinch. "I'm gonna get crucified for this."

"Jesus, Baker. No one's gonna care that, what, TMZ? is running gossip about you. It's gonna blow over." Ginny frowned and stared at the lurid headline again.

Maybe that was true for him. Mike Lawson could go out and have his picture taken with seven women a night without anyone batting an eye. In fact, Ginny was sure that he'd been in that exact scenario. But. Mike Lawson wasn't the first woman in the majors. Mike Lawson wasn't accused of starting locker room brawls without throwing one punch. Mike Lawson wasn't labeled a "distraction" at best and a "travesty" at worst. 

There was also the fact that Mike Lawson didn't have a ticking time bomb hanging over his head in the form of nude selfies.

Or, maybe he did. Ginny didn't know his life. 

Some portion of her whirling thoughts must have shown on her face because when she finally turned her attention back to him, he was studying her intently. The catcher squinted, like he was thinking too hard. 

"Don't hurt yourself, old man," she drawled, patting him on the arm. She had to dance away, giggling like a little girl again when he tried to retaliate. 

"Outta my yard!"

Which was how Mike Lawson chased Ginny Baker out of the Padres Clubhouse and through the bowels of Petco Park. 

 _Bet TMZ would love a shot of this_ , she found herself thinking as the aging catcher finally caught up to her, his broad forearm wrapping around her waist. He squeezed her once before letting go, draping his arm over her shoulder as they strolled to the exit. Anyone else, she probably would have shrugged the weight away. After all, he was sticky with drying sweat, didn't smell great, and radiated an uncomfortable amount of heat. If she leaned into him, hardly more than a sway, just for a moment, well. No one had to know.

"It'll be fine, rookie," he reassured her one last time as the door to a bright, early September afternoon came into view. He retracted his arm and Ginny ignored the sudden awareness she had of her shoulders, how light they felt. "You'll get a question, maybe two, at the post-game presser, you'll crack a joke, we'll all move on. If not, your pitbull of an agent will take care of it."

She was pretty sure Mike was wrong. He was speaking from his experience, which, while thoughtful, rarely reflected Ginny's. He was definitely right on one count, though.

Amelia would handle it

They pushed open the door, stepping into the sweltering heat. For once, there were no crowds mobbing the team door. Good. Ginny wasn't in the mood to smile and sign autographs.

Still, she managed a grin for her captain. "Bet you I get more questions about being Blip's mistress than I do about my game."

"Oh, rookie," he laughed. "You are on!"

* * *

**2**

**Star Tracks: Ginny Baker's Fun in the Sun With New Hun(k)!**

 

The wordplay was atrocious, but it wasn't like Ginny could expect much from a magazine whose major selling point was its proximity to every supermarket checkout counter in America. 

Eliot, who'd been sent along on her grocery run to see if he could find any instagram fodder, followed her gaze. He lit up, snatching the magazine off the rack and flipped straight to the offending article. He clucked in disappointment almost immediately and put the tabloid back. Ginny, meanwhile, stared in consternation. 

"What the hell was that?"

He started guiltily and sent her a sheepish, apologetic look. "It just says that you and Tommy Miller are a thing."

"Okay?" She looked away long enough to flash a friendly smile at the cashier and ask the bag boy for paper. "Were you expecting something else?"

While the FS1 commentators had finally started covering her the way they did every other pitcher in the league, the rest of the news media had failed to get the memo. She hadn't yet gotten used to seeing her face on the cover of gossip rags, unflattering candid shots with shocking headlines plastered across them. Even more unfortunate, though, was the fact that precisely none of these magazine or blogs or whatever cared about her ERA or OOPS. They didn't even care that she was a woman in a field (literally) dominated by men. The only important thing about Ginny Baker was that she was famous and might be sleeping with someone.

Because these writers had no imagination, they didn't stray far in looking for potential romantic conquests. Her name has been linked with nearly every other Padre in existence, but the bullpen gets dragged into the sleazy world of tabloid gossip most often. And from the bullpen, Tommy Miller was hands down the most likely candidate for Ginny Baker's heart. At least according to such reputable sources as _US Weekly_ and _Star_.

Ginny couldn't fathom why. She and Tommy got on much better than they had those first few games, but they weren't really friends. The only reason she had his phone number was because Stubbs finally added her to the bullpen group text. 

"Oh. No. Just hoping."

And _that_ had to be weirder than his initial reaction. 

"Um. What?" Ginny ignored the sly glances of the cashier as she paid and gathered up her bags. Eliot politely took two himself and they headed back to his car, which was the real reason he was invited along on this grocery run. While Ginny Baker technically knew how to drive, she didn't have a license and wouldn't have time to get one until the off-season. 

"Right! You don't know about Boyfriend Bingo."

"No, and I'm not sure that I want to." Eliot deflated, so Ginny sighed, regretted every choice that led her to this moment and dutifully asked, "What's Boyfriend Bingo?"

"I'm glad you asked," he grinned, popping his trunk for the groceries. "As I'm sure you're aware, according to rumors, you've got a new boyfriend every other week."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, how they expect me to keep up, I'll never know."

"Exactly! We made these bingo boards with a bunch of names, you know. Guys that there'd already been rumors about, new guys, completely impossible guys, a few girls, even."

Ginny wanted to know what that "even" was about, but also figured that this was probably not the time to get into that tangle. Instead, she drawled, "And how'd that work out for you?"

"Way too easy." He pulled a face and Ginny had to laugh. Eliot was definitely one of the good ones. "So, then, I added in source material, like who'd reported the story in the first place. Each box has a potential boyfriend and a publication. I even set up a program that'll match 'em up randomly so no two boards are the same,"

"What?" She struggled to wrap her mind around this weird display of obsession. "Does Amelia not give you enough to do?"

Eliot just laughed. It was hard to be annoyed with someone who was so relentlessly cheerful. "It was going to be a meme. We'd tweet out a new board every time a new rumor about your romantic life surfaced. Then, Amelia realized that that's all we'd be tweeting and scrapped it. We can still have fun with it, though. Every time a new, wrong report comes out about your dating life, we've gotta scramble and see if it's on our board."

"Who, you and Amelia?"

"She has one, but I think she mostly uses it to keep track of which publications are dead to her. There aren't many of us who actually play, but let's see." He drummed his fingers agains the steering wheel in thought. As he started listing players in Boyfriend Bingo, Ginny could feel herself slowly losing her mind. Her agent, her manager, the GM, her pitching coach, half her teammates, her brother: they were all in on this. How Eliot thought that didn't qualify as many players, Ginny had no clue. "—and I think that's it. Oh, yeah! And Mike Lawson. Duh. I think he's the one who got most of the team playing." 

Ginny stewed in this information for the rest of the drive, which didn't seem to bother Eliot all that much. He dropped her off at the apartment complex, offered to help her carry in the groceries, but she waved him off. She had some ass to kick. 

"What the hell, man?" she greeted her slightly confused captain when he answered her call. 

"Uh. You're gonna have to fill me in if you want me to defend myself."

"Boyfriend Bingo?"

"Found out about that, did you?" He sounded as unruffled as ever, as if she'd just told him she bought some new socks.

She huffed. "Eliot told me."

"Should've known the kid couldn't keep a secret," Lawson rumbled, though Ginny could hear the laughter in his tone. "And I was so close to winning, too. Just one square left!"

"Oh, really, old man? Who've you got?" The irritation leaked out of her as a thought burst into consciousness. 

"Well, let's see.  _OK!_  said you went clubbing with Voorhies, _In Touch_ had you going to tea with Prince Harry, _Entertainment Weekly_ covered you meeting Drake backstage at his concert plus a romantic helicopter ride, and _Vogue_ had you and Leo—Which, how could you? You know how I feel about his eyes. Last square was you and m—" He choked, cleared his throat, and finished, "me. _USA Today_. I was planning on calling the paps myself to get that one done," he joked.

"Not sure how Amelia would feel about that," she blurted. It was that or start laughing hysterically at the thought of herself out on a date with Mike Lawson, getting caught by the paparazzi, trying to shake them off, hiding out somewhere dark and close and dangerous, dropping her barriers at his prox—

Okay. Enough of that. Because there was no chance of that happening, for a myriad of reasons, one of which was her agent. Who was sleeping with her captain. 

Ginny was mostly done being angry with the two of them for keeping the secret from her. But, well. She was human.

"Baker," he began, a little resigned.

She cut him off. A little payback. For Boyfriend Bingo. Not for anything else. Definitely not. "Never mind. Anyway, you need to work on your counting, or are you already going senile?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you only get to mark the fake ones, right?"

"Well, yeah. But the game's based on tracking rumors. They're all fake."

She hummed noncommittally, not trusting herself to not bust a gut if she tried to actually say something. The silence that came over the line was practically tangible. 

"There something you aren't telling me, rookie?" There was a rough edge to Lawson's voice. Ginny wondered what kind of prize was at stake that he would get so worked up at the possibility of losing this ridiculous game.

"Oh, no." She hoped the breathless quality to her voice made her sound guilty, not like she was holding in gales of laughter. A sigh gusted down the line and Ginny struck: "Not while we're taking it slow."

She hung up on his confused exclamation. Turned off her phone for good measure. 

 _Ha,_ she thought.  _Serves him right._

* * *

**3**

**15 Reasons Ginny Baker and Livan Duarte are Totally Dating**

 

"Amelia, do we really need to do this?"

"Yes," came the clipped voice of her agent. 

"But Buzzfeed?" she asked, not bothering to hide her derision.

Amelia looked up from her phone. She had her understanding face on, the one she used when she wanted to be compassionate but was already deep in the zone. "Ginny, we have to start rebuilding your brand. This will help."

That was about the gentlest way Amelia could put it. After the photos leaked, right in the middle of her second season's playoff push, it felt like her world was going to fall apart. She'd let herself relax when that first season ended without a hint of the selfies surfacing. She didn't even bother telling Amelia what might be coming.  _Maybe_ , she'd thought _, whoever hacked Trevor didn't realize what he had and just deleted the pictures_. Of course, that was wishful thinking. The pictures came out in the middle of a long roadtrip, the night before she was set to start. For the next weeks, Ginny lived in fear being sent back to the minors to live out her disgrace.

Only once did one of the Padres make a comment. One of the new rookies made the mistake of saying something and only barely got out of the resulting beatdown with his face intact. Ginny had never seen Mike Lawson so furious. 

"Ginny Baker is part of this team!" he'd growled, whirling on the tense, silent locker room. "An attack on her is an attack on the Padres. Don't think that just 'cause none of your private photos have ever gone viral, that makes you better than her. We are _one_ team. Win together. Lose together. Stand together. Any of you mooks got a problem with that, then I'm sure Al won't have any problem sending you all the way down to Tri-City. Got it?"

There'd been a low murmur of assent, but looking around, Ginny was surprised not to see any of the resentment or contempt that dominated the clubhouse last season. Instead, a steady, dangerous current buzzed through the room, but it wasn't ominous. At least not to Ginny. To whatever shitbag had decided her naked body was for public consumption, maybe, but not her. 

She met Lawson's eyes through the crowd. He looked fearsome and righteous and at that moment, Ginny realized a few things. Realizations didn't mean her world wasn't falling apart, though. So, she offered him a nod, tried to let down her walls and let him see just what his defense meant. He nodded back and that was that. 

So, here she was, trying to brainstorm a good angle for this stupid article with Amelia and Evelyn in one of the team conference rooms. This, despite the fact that one of the headlines on the home page read: "15 Reasons Ginny Baker and Livan Duarte are Totally Dating." Which, of course, Evelyn immediately clicked on. 

The first reason was just: "Pitchers and catchers. Duh."

Which. True, Ginny would admit, though she wasn't quite sure why someone would decide that meant she and this particular catcher were an item. By their logic, Ginny could be going out with Buster Posey or Joe Mauer before he hung up his mask and trotted out to first. Hell, even the ghost of Yogi Berra was a contender. 

And really. Ginny was also willing to go out on a limb and say that she probably wasn't the first pitcher in the history of the MLB to be attracted to men. She knew she wasn't the first Padre. Yet, she was the only one whose romantic connections to her teammates were up for discussion. 

"Buzzfeed stopped being an actual source of information when they posted that article that was just a bunch of pictures of my ass," she complained. Amelia had to see reason on this, right? 

Amelia did not. She raised one perfectly sculpted brow and went back to tapping furiously at her phone.

"Oh, Gin," Evelyn clucked, patting her arm in sympathy. "It was a listicle." So much for sympathy. Still, Evelyn had more to say. "And Buzzfeed stopped being a source of information way before that. Ooh. That's a cute one! You should save that, your hair looks amazing!"

Her hair did look good, and the way Duarte was smiling at her was pretty cute. So, maybe, to the untrained eye, they could look like a couple or like they even liked each other. Don't get her wrong, she didn't mind Duarte. He was a solid player, made good calls behind the plate, but he wasn't her catcher. She'd throw to him because Ginny wasn't so secure in her position as the number five starter on a team that finished last season at the bottom of the National League. She'll push back when it's a matter of fairness, not when she'll look like a diva for only pitching to one guy.

Speaking of that one guy.

"Baker! You're missing your bullpen appointment. Duarte's waiting." Mike Lawson's mouth twisted around the other catcher's name, like it left an actual bitterness on his tongue. 

"I'll bet he is," Evelyn muttered, still scrolling through the gifs of Ginny and Livan that someone at Buzzfeed had actually been paid to find. 

Lawson threw her a bewildered look, but the computer screen grabbed his attention. He swaggered up to the table, leaned in, and read over Evelyn's shoulder. Ginny groaned and let her forehead thunk to the shiny surface of the mahogany table the way she'd wanted to for the past ten minutes. Because her face was squarely planted on the flat surface, she didn't see the flicker of annoyance-anger-hurt flash across his face only to tuck itself away behind a blank mask.

Ginny didn't see it. 

Amelia did. 

Amelia watched as this man, who she'd come as close to dating as anyone came to dating Mike Lawson, let his heart bleed a bit into the world. She watched him pull it together and force out a laugh. Watched Ginny raise her head to glare at him venomously and suddenly that laugh became a little more natural. Amelia even watched the anxiety fade away from Ginny's shoulders as she laughed, too. 

Soon, the two ballplayers were gone, though their voices echoed back into the conference room. 

Amelia Slater stared at the door they'd just disappeared through shrewdly, wondering if she was imagining things or if— Amelia shook the thought off. Deal with the concrete, not the could-bes. When she swung her gaze back to the table, though, Evelyn Sanders was already waiting. The sly smile on the other woman's face confirmed that maybe this was more concrete than she'd thought. 

"Buzzfeed first," she declared, noting the arch in Evelyn's brow. Gesturing to the door vaguely, as if her client hadn't just set off about a million warning bells, "Whatever the hell that was can wait."

Evelyn's laugh was not comforting.

* * *

**+1**

**Lawson, Baker reunite in celebrity golf tournament**

 

Ginny snorted at the headline of the  _Union Tribune's_ Sports page. Below the fold but still on the front page. Not too shabby for a "flash in the pan" who'd just finished her 7th season in the majors. 

Her toes curled into the cold floor in protest and a shiver danced up her spine.  _Back to bed_ , she thought, tossing the paper onto the tray holding her morning coffee and padding back into the bedroom. 

Only in the offseason could Ginny Baker allow herself the luxury of climbing back in bed to read the paper. There was no game to play, no bus to ride, no party to attend. Just her, the newspaper, and a truly massive king bed. 

Well. Plus one. 

As soon as she burrowed back into the mountain of blankets, a strong arm shot out and curled around her waist, reeling her in. 

Ginny laughed as she found herself pressed up against Mike Lawson's bare chest. 

"Where'd you go?" he murmured, sleep still saturating his voice. 

She hummed, wrapping an arm of her own around him. "Just got the paper." His chest rumbled in response and he turned onto his side so they could face each other. Not that he opened his eyes at all. Ginny was sure he was well on his way to falling back to sleep. "You and I made headlines, old man."

That got him. He cracked open an eye, regarded her warily even if the arm banded around her flexed, drew her closer. "Which paper?"

"Just the  _UT._ They covered the tournament." She pressed a kiss to his chest, an apology more than anything. 

Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson had been dating since three days after Mike's official retirement from the San Diego Padres four years ago. That was when Ginny showed up on his doorstep and read him the riot act for not making  _his goddamn move already!_ Needless to say, it didn't take much more convincing to get Mike onboard and from there, neither of them looked back. 

Still, they hadn't yet bothered to go public. They weren't subtle, but they'd never confirmed their relationship status. 

(Not that anyone asked, which was a separate, albeit tangential, problem.)

At first, it felt like there was too much to lose. A relationship still in its infancy, Ginny's hard-won reputation, Mike's well-deserved break from the spotlight. All of it felt too important to risk bringing down the shitstorm that would come the minute they opened their mouth. 

So, they kept it lowkey. When they went out, they avoided anything particularly couple-y. No PDA, no deep and meaningful gazes. While the paparazzi had stopped obsessively tailing Ginny sometime in her third season, people with camera phones were always a concern. Especially to two people who were so accustomed to media attention. Somehow, they'd managed to go four years without one tabloid picking up candid photos of a date, though. 

At this point in her career, Ginny wouldn't have minded letting the cat out of the bag. She'd moved up in the Padres' pitching lineup. Sure, she probably would never make it to the number one spot, but she had a solid career, one that she'd earned through her blood, sweat, and tears. No one could say that Ginny Baker was just a PR stunt. 

Mike, though. Ginny wasn't quite sure why Mike hadn't pushed to go public.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that no tabloids had ever picked up on their less-than-stealthy dates. It wasn't that Ginny and Mike didn't make headlines, but every time they appeared near each other, they were always labeled as "friends," "former teammates," or nothing at all. The goddamn media was friendzoning her own boyfriend.

Well, judging by the way his hands were currently skating beneath the shirt she'd put on to make coffee, she could discount that theory. 

"Yeah? What'd they have to say about us?"

She sighed, both from the warmth of his hands on her skin and overall disappointment with the news media of the country. Wiggling into his body heat, she mumbled, "They were just surprised that we kicked everyone's asses."

His laugh rumbled through his chest and into her. "It's like they don't know we've got a standing tee time."

"Maybe they don't," she muttered, as close to surly as she could get with Mike's hands tracing abstract patterns on her skin.

"Are you complaining that no one has figured us out yet?"

How did he do that? How did he hear three words and untangle the complicated web of emotions that held them up? It should be annoying, being so transparent, but it wasn't. It made her feel understood that not many had achieved. 

So, she gave him a little truth in return. Something that he could hear and not need to figure out. Not really trusting herself to look him in the eye, she addressed his bare chest. "I'm sick of all the speculation about who I'm dating when you're right here."

"Gin. You've got a long career ahead of you, you don't necessarily want to be tied to me. You could be playing into your forties!"

"I'm no Moyer," she replied stubbornly, her fingers starting their own walk up the broad expanse of his back. She had to ignore the rest of it because he was being ridiculous. There was no talking to Mike when he was being ridiculous. 

"Damn straight you're not. He never had your ass, for starters." Mike surged and suddenly Ginny found herself straddling her very naked boyfriend, his hands occupying themselves on the curve of her ass. Disregarding the wandering hands, he was the picture of serious contemplation. "You could decide to pack it all in and become a rodeo clown for all I care. I'll still be here. As long as you want me, I'm yours."

Something clicked in Ginny's brain. Did he—?

She reached out and laid her palm against his cheek, his beard (he'd refused to get rid of it) scrubbing against the sensitive skin. "I'm always gonna want you, old man. Even when I have to start pushing your ass around in a wheelchair, I'll want you." 

Mike pushed himself up so he could lean his forehead against Ginny's, press as close to her as he could manage. "That a promise?" he demanded roughly, his fingers pressing indents along her hips in his intensity. 

Ginny smiled, wide and bright. "Can't get rid of me so easily." She kissed him for the first time of the morning. They both had a serious case of morning breath, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "If you're mine, then I'm yours, too."

Mike's answering smile bloomed and Ginny's breath caught at just how gorgeous this man of hers was. He rolled her onto her back and set about showing her just how much he belonged to her. 

 _Well. If he can wait to tell the world about us, then I can, too. Probably,_ was the last conscious thought Ginny Baker had that morning.

* * *

(In retrospect, pulling him over the barrier when the Padres swept the World Series that next season, her hands fisted tight in his jersey and her lips planted on his? Probably not the best way to go public. 

But. Well. 

She just couldn't wait anymore.)

**Author's Note:**

> Some baseball history facts! The first Padre to come out, second MLB player, was outfielder Billy Bean. Jamie Moyer has the distinction of being the oldest pitcher in MLB history to record a win. 
> 
> MPG, on the other hand, actually is 42. So just imagine that Mike looks exactly the same 7 years down the road. 
> 
> I think I gave myself a toothache with this one. What'd you think? I've got a long list of dudes that would probably be tied to Ginny but didn't make it into the fic. Who would you put in? Let me know in a comment or over on [tumblr](http://www.megaphonemonday.tumblr.com)


End file.
